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User blog:Miramc22/Aelia Bliss- Short Story
A note from the lovely me. This story takes place on the day that it was written, December 18, 2013. Don't ask me how Aelia got outside of Camp Jupiter, because idk. Okay then, continue reading. ---- The tombstone was blurred in my vision. I wiped the tears frustratedly away out of my eyes with the back of my hands and let out another strange noise that probably sounded like dying. I carefully read the words like they would slip away if I didn't read carefully: but oh gods, dyslexia, don't fail me now. Karah Skylar Bliss BORN NOVEMBER 18, 1964 DIED DECEMBER 18, 2009 MOTHER AND WIFE GREATEST HONOR TO DIE FIGHTING FOR OUR COUNTRY I was looking at my dead mother's grave. Looking at it was surreal. My mother died today four years ago. Four years ago exactly. Standing in front of the grave. Standing somewhere on top of my mom, buried in the ground, never to see the light of day again. I could never see her in person again. Ever. I stood there for what felt like forever, crying silently, but then it turned into more noisy, weird sounds and tears fell off of my face like it could cause a flood. I couldn't take it anymore. I was going to scream. I was going to kick over every tombstone here, I don't care how long it took, but I was going to. I don't care how difficult it was going to be, but I needed to do something to cause mass destruction somehow. But I wasn't going to be Aelia. I was going to be me. I collapsed onto my knees suddenly and wrapped my arms around the tombstone, like my real, alive mother, Karah Skylar Bliss, was the cold, large rock with her nametag. I hugged the rock, and I was hugging my mother. I was sobbing, taking small, short breaths, and struggling to breathe. My face was red of anger and frustration, and I felt like dying. It was always like this when I visited my mom's grave. Painful. I couldn't leave here, I couldn't leave my mom, buried somewhere deep in the ground below my feet. I was having a mental breakdown, and I knew it. My mom, who was always so alive, being cold and dead below me. I tried to calm myself down by thinking of peaceful memories of the two of us. Growing up, just the two of us. Two independant girls, just the two of us. Mom helping me with ADHD and dyslexia. Mom taking me to school. Mom coming to my karate competitions. Mom driving me to my self-defense classes. Mom leaving to fight when I was six. Mom coming back from the war when I was eight. Mom leaving to fight again when I was 10. Fighting with Mom about not going. The flashback hit me like being hit by a car. "Mom! You're not going!" I sobbed. "Aelia, I have a duty to serve for the country," Mom replied, trying to calm me down. "You don't have any duty to serve! No one else does! You shouldn't! That's not fair!" I protested violently. "Someone has to do it, Aelia," Mom said. There were tears in her eyes, too. "You don't want to do this," I said. "You're looking for Dad! He's not there, Mom!" I screamed. "Your father was always the one for war. I'm not looking for him, Aelia, I'm doing this because of my own choice. I want to fight the war, and protect our country, for your safety. Someday, you'll understand that," she said. "Mommy, I don't care about anybody else! I care about you! No, I don't understand, and I won't ever understand!" I exclaimed. "Your father was just like you, Aelia. You remind me of him so much. He was a great guy, and he had to go and fight. I admit, I am looking for him, but our country is so important to me," Mom said, smiling at me weakly. She was crying too, but like an adult cries. Silently, in fear of their children seeing them. "But you are important to me!" I cried, frustrated. "I hate you! You will never get the point! You don't really care about me, and I hate you!" I screamed like a teenager complaning to her mom. I ran to my room, pushing things over, throwing pillows, and breaking lamps. Mom followed me, but I locked the door to my room quickly. Mom tried to come in, but I wasn't ever going to talk to her again. And it turned out that that was the way it was going to be. Mom left, my grandparents picked me up, and I never saw her again. My own mother. One year later, I was 11, and I came home from school. My grandparents weren't home, so I picked up the phone. "Hello?" I asked cautiously. I didn't recognize the caller ID. "Hello, is this the Reece residence?" A tough, clear male voice asked. Reece was my grandparents' last names. My palms started to sweat and I was going to drop the phone. "Yes. Who is this?" I asked frantically. "Am I speaking to Marie or Jack?" The man asked. "Neither. You're speaking to Aelia," I say. "Aelia... you're Karah Bliss' daughter?" He asked. "Yes. Aelia Reela Octavia Bliss. Who is this?" I ask again. "This is Sergeant John Southern," he answerd, sounding slightly annoyed. "Are Marie and Jackson Reece there?" "No. I'm home alone. Why are you calling me?" I ask. "Miss Bliss, I would appreciate if you could contact either Marie or Jackson Reece immediatley," he says. "No. Tell me why you're calling," I say. Sergeant Southern sighed. "I'd really prefer if you could contact either Marie or Jackso--" "JUST TELL ME WHY YOU'RE CONTACTING ME!" I exclaim violently. The other end was quiet for a few minutes, and I thought that he hung up. But then Sergeant Southern sighed, and he began to talk. "Karah Skylar Bliss was a hero. She sacrificed herself for a fellow soldier. She was injured on the battlefield in taking a soldier's place..." his voice drifted off, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. The phone slipped out of my hands and onto the floor. The battery pack fell out and the phone exploded onto the ground on impact. I stood there silently, tears falling onto my face again, until I realized: My mother was dead. I ran around the house, destroying everything in sight. I threw things, hit things, and broke things. Anything to get my anger out. I could only think the words "Mom is dead." My grandparents got home eventually, and scolded me until I told them. They were called again on the other house phone, and we all cried. We cried violently and we were all making the weird noises. The funeral was the worst part. I sat as calmly as I could. I was crying and making the weird noises and staring at my mother's coffin the entire time. Everybody apologized to me, but what good did that do? Was it going to bring her back? They didn't really understand the pain of being an orphan. It occured to me often that I was alone: no mother. No father. I was nobody's child, and I was going to be an orphan living with my grandparents until I moved out. My memories returned to me hugging the tombstone, which was carved with my mother's name. Greatest honor to die fighting for our country. Yeah, right. I still don't understand what she meant now, and I'm not sure if I ever will. I stood up slowly, and kissed the rock, like I would kiss my mom. I hugged it one last time, taking short breaths again, and eventually stood up. I bent down and kissed the ground, where my mother was lowered into the ground on the day I witnessed her body being lowered inside of the coffin into the ground. I placed some flowers I got for her on the grave carefully. It was the middle of winter, and they wouldn't live for much longer, but I hoped that my mom woud appreciate them. I know that she's in Elysium. She died a hero, and she deserves it. She was the world's greatest mom ever, and when I say that, I mean it. The greatest. I promised her silently that I would be back soon. Camp Jupiter was only thirty minutes away by a bus, and I could really visit her any time that I wanted to, as long as Reyna approved. She usually didn't, and she always made me go with someone, like I would rob a bank instead if I wasn't supervised. I stood up again. My jeans were covered with mud, but I didn't care. I came here with Skylar Moon. I didn't like her at all: she was a daughter of Venus, and all she cared about was herself. It was terrible how much she didn't care about her friends, and I despised her. It wasn't like she wanted to come with me to visit my dead mother. Her dad was alive, which was all I knew about her family. She didn't understand what I was feeling right now, and she may never understand it. Skylar was my mom's middle name. I slowly walked away from my mother's tombstone, but rushed back to it to kiss it again, like I was running back into her arms. I hugged it and kissed it and finally walked away from it carefully, and I couldn't turn back, because I knew that if I did, I would probably be here for another thirty minutes. I carefully walked out of the graveyard and met up with Skylar. She was wearing her Camp Jupiter T-shirt, which of course, looked amazing on her. Her blonde hair was down, and it was one of the coldest days there can be in California. She was wearing a light jacket and gloves, like I was. She looked at me, and at my jeans stained with mud, and she had the nerve to make a face. "Creep," she muttered. Normally, I would have punched her in the face, but instead, I didn't comment, and I didn't answer. I wasn't Aelia right now. Not today. Not on December 18. Category:Blog posts